


Feels Like Being Alive

by MyEmpyrean



Category: Ancient Greek Religion & Lore, Homestuck
Genre: Angst, Awkward Conversations, Awkward Flirting, Awkward Romance, Break Up, Character Study, F/M, Flashbacks, Fluff, Implied/Referenced Suicide, M/M, One Shot, Romance, Sad and Happy, Suicide Attempt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-03
Updated: 2020-04-03
Packaged: 2021-03-01 03:42:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,174
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23464888
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MyEmpyrean/pseuds/MyEmpyrean
Summary: Put yourself in the ironic combat boots of Dirk Strider, also known as the Prince of Heart or the Goddess of Souls.Yes, he is something of a Greek goddess and no, he has no idea how that works exactly.The point is; he has no idea what he should be doing in his newfound relationship with Jake English, also known as the Page of Hope or an unknown Greek God. All he knows is that English is no Eros.
Relationships: Eros/Psyche (Ancient Greek Religion & Lore), Jake English/Dirk Strider
Kudos: 7





	Feels Like Being Alive

The Goddess of Souls drew his weapon and brandished it in a wide arc- the skeleton’s head flew off, and he watched as its body imploded into grist.

“Splendid, Dirk!” He turned and nodded his head to acknowledge his bro-at-arms, Jake English as he treated another skeletal foe with similar intent: he cocked his Twin M9 Berettas and blew in two new eye sockets for the poor imp. This one crumpled and disintegrated into a modest pile of loot.

A groan drawled behind him. Do they really have to be this noisy? It’s like these undead are allured by the proposition of re-death. He pivoted on his heel and swung his elbow back. He felt the crunch of a jawbone.

The skeleton swiped weakly- its claws met air. Dirk faced his opponent from a yard away; next, he tucked his katantakind close and thrust it forward, effortlessly closing the gap and skewering it into a sheshkabab of bones.

“Gardyloo!” An explosion pealed right near him, and something small streaked past his cheek. He freezed, but before he could conceive a game plan, he heard the sound of a body hitting the ground hard behind him. His gaze dropped to see the fallen corpse of an skeletal imp, trembling. He introduced it to his shoekind.

He twitched back to observe Jake’s wide grin taking up half of his face. “Heh heh… Whew-wee! Sorry, I just saw that bugger going after my friend and I had to take action.” His cheeks were pink with exertion.

Dirk shrugged and sheathed his katanakind. “Looks like that’s all of them.”

He surveyed the area, the renamed and remodelled Land of Mounds and Xenon, and once more had to wonder how did all of this happen. What kind of tech went into transforming Jake’s island from tropical paradise into a complete danger zone? Green hills and valleys molded the landscape under a thunder of dark clouds that grumbled with flashes of electric blue and purple, with scarlet Stonehedge structures dotting his sight like drops of blood dribbling down humongous triple chins. Right now, they were near a semicircle of monoliths that his broloved said needed exploring for the sake of ADVENTURE!

Even though all investigation revealed zlinch in terms of helpfulness; since most were the equivalent of a robotic chassis without any purpose- just herds of rock- who is he to deprive his homebro the pleasure of skeleton fisticuffs with an end prize of absolutely nothing?

If anything, it’s a metaphor about life. How life ultimately yields nil unless someone uncovers a way to make it enjoyable. Ah yes, those irony gods up there can savor the sweet, sweet taste of-

Oh, did he mention that Jake was his boyfriend? Well, yep. That’s a thing.

“Ha! We got them good, didn’t we?” His brofriend laughed and- oh my god he slapped his knee. Ah, the beauty of romance, it allows one to find even the most hysterical things precious. “They all must’ve ran off with their tails tucked between their legs! We make a pretty good team, eh?” He raced up to Dirk’s side and held up his hand.

Dirk doesn’t leave people hanging. “Yeah. You were really impressive yourself, English.”

Jake’s face went rigid. Chuckles spilled haphazardly from his throat. “Oh, thanks, Mr. Strider. That’s high praise coming from you.”

“Well, right up until you almost shot me in the face.”

“Ah, there it is.” Jake snorted. “I was trying to save you!”

“Rule number one on being in a relationship with me: I can always take care of myself. Mind your own business on the battlefield.” He bumped him on the back with his arm; then twirled around and started a practically vertical hike toward their goal: a crown of crumbling, crimson obelisks. Hooray.

“Egad. You try to save a friend… bunch of codswallop...” His voice trailed off into a flurry of mutters.

Dirk shook his head. He can’t believe he is actually sulking about that. Maybe he should ease up, but at the same time… that bullet was too close. 

What Jake honestly needs to study up on the ancestral art of the chillax. It’s a tradition in Strider history that dates back several generations, so far back that it would be a Strider himself that founded and perfected the technique, which he taught to his children and his grandchildren and his great grandchildren until he died with the secret of chillaxing on his lips.

The point is, he always gets so thrilled about anything that is remotely connected with ADVENTURE, whether it be wrecking a bunch of low-level enemies in or going full Indiana Jones inside ancient ruins. He’s too exhilarated and all it takes is one mistake-

“Hey! Wait for me!” Quick, but cautious steps pounded behind him. He halted his trek until Jake appeared, his skin pale against the turbulent sky; then, they were off again.

If this continues to happen, maybe it’s beneficial to halt these escapades altogether? He hesitated. What if they do discover something of use, an item or a weapon that can be utilized in the strife against whatever the Final Boss is? Plus, these voyages help them both ascend the echeladder higher than a smuppet catapult. (Oooh, good idea, write that down.) These excursions can go on, but as soon as his brolove goes trigger happy, he is turning this car right back around, mister.

Well… and … Jake gets this really dorky smile when he agrees to accompany him and it’s adorable as hel-

“Yes! We are so close!” His bropatriot fist-pumped the open air. “Right there! It’s right there, Dirk!”

“Yeah, I can see it.” They were nearly at the crest of the triple chin now, where two crumbling rocks loomed, like herculean guards flanking an entrance to a nightclub. The sky rumbled a complaint.

“What do you think will be there?” Lightning flashed, and his glasses blazed pure white for a moment.

“We’ll see.” That’s all he could think to say in response. He isn’t exactly a wishful thinking type of guy.

“Well, I hope there’s some neat double flintlock pistols in a chest of goodies up there! Just imagine me wielding those bad boys around!” Jake mimed some finger-gunfire and blew the imaginary smoke off the barrell. Unfortunately, it wasn’t a very suggestive action.

He jerked his neck around to stretch it out. “That would be cool.” He isn’t exactly a conversationalist either. It’s a lot easier to deliver clever quips when there’s a screen between them.

“Or maybe there’s magical treasure map with a gigantic X that leads us to an actual treasure, and we will have to conquer seas and kill evil hydras and-”

Dirk decided to tune him out at this point. He hurried his pace until he sauntered past the inanimate stone guards into a wide, open pasture of grass. Burgundy boulders, surprise surprise, surrounded a bluish pool the size of a miniature pony. He blinked. He hasn’t see anything except jolly christmas colors for the past week, so he had to go rewire his brain to perceive this turbid of a blue.

“Whoa! That’s water, isn’t it?” Jake materialized beside him and huffed. He swiped a few stray locks back into his crowsnest he calls hair.

“Okay, I’ve got an idea.” His broloved dragged him close and whispered as quiet as he could manage (Jake doesn’t have much of an inside voice), “You check out the lake and I’ll look everywhere else in case we have intruders.”

He ducked his head to say yes, he accepts this new mission. He knew that his brofriend only wanted to sate his appetite for hero action, but he didn’t mind feeding this unhealthy habit. In moderation. He slid his foot forward with exaggerated prudence as his fellow agent of the impossible hopped away to perimeter the area.

Good luck. If this is the last time I see you, I just want to say…

Don’t finish that, don’t finish that, DON’T FINISH THAT!

Whatever that was, that was not irony, that was the byproduct of being the boyfriend of an aficionado of horrible c-list movies. There’s a time and a place for such unspeaklable things.

With that over with, he peered into the pool, huh, either it doesn’t have a bottom or it’s so far down he can’t discern it through the murk. If he squinted behind his shades, he can see his reflection, an apparition of dark skin and even darker shades with a shock of blonde hair swooped into a hairdo fit for a warrior; plus-

He glimpsed the color of amber from under his shades.

Oh no. His stomach dropped beneath him.

He couldn’t take his eyes off of himself. Thoughts- memories- flooded his mind, things too ancient to be familiar and yet they are, and the smell of burning oil filled his nose-

It’s happening again.

Before anything else happens, you look down at yourself. The light of the oil lamp does nothing to obscure your tall, slender body that has replaced your previous lanky state, with perfect curves in all the right places and delicate, mocha skin. You recognize your feminine qualities under a white toga instantly.

You are Psyche, Goddess of Souls.

If you weren’t so gay, you would be a slobbering mess right about now. Yet you can appreciate the beauty of body you are inhabiting- it’s so gorgeous you are hesitant to even be inside of it, as if you can ruin it on the outside by wrecking the machinery inside.

He- no, he is she now, you guess- she sighed. Stupid, stupid, stupid. You shouldn’t have looked in your reflection, you dumb little-!

She looked up and her breath caught. The oil lamp’s glow brightened. The razor clutched in her hand quivered in shame.

She beheld the face of Eros, the handsome god of love.

Now, this is an appearance you can drool over. Golden curls framed his pink cheeks, petal lips, and white neck, and her gaze riding his broad shoulders, a pair of white, glowing, majestic wings unfurled from his back, feathers fluffy and soft, twitching in his slumber. His body- oh my god…

She eyeballed a certain section for perhaps longer than necessary; then, she felt her knees began to knock together. She collapsed, shaking, feeling exhausted. Her brain began to short-circuit.

One clear command rose from the haywire. Hide the razor. Hide the razor. In her madness, she tried to plunge into her chest, but it slipped from her grasp.

His form blossomed in her vision as she lifted her stare. Her chest heaved, her skin crawled with goosebumps, and her forehead gleamed with sweat. Nonetheless, as she kept her sight on him, and she felt her frivolity melt and dribble away. She glanced aside and spotted his weapons, a quiver of arrows and a bow.

You would have preferred an awesome katanakind, but you can’t be picky. Not with Eros. She picked up an arrow, to admire it, a lovely knoll of wood that belonged to him, it’s from him. Her finger traced the tip and then pressed, but too hard, and blood trickled from it’s wound. She winced and peeked back at the god of desire.

And you fell hopelessly in love with Eros.

She now shuddered not with enfeeblement, but with a need. You know what you had to do. You had to kiss him.

Drawing your oil lamp far from him, she leaned down and placed her lips on his, but only for a fleeting moment. She flinched back, hand on her mouth, praying to Hypnos that his slumber was deep.

It seemed to be a sleep of the deepest caliber because he did not stir. She leaned in again and did it again. Again, again, again. Her anxiety increased with every smooch, but it was worth that single second of freedom and satisfaction and heat.

You enjoyed it. God, you enjoyed it because this is what you always wanted, and you are so disgusting for this having this desire because you are making-out with this spectacular guy while he sleeps. He doesn’t deserve it, and you don’t deserve him, but you can’t help your thoughts even if you want nothing more than to shatter them.

As she reared back from another successful canoodle, the lamp put an end to this disgusting game and dropped blistering oil on his perfect skin. His eyes opened and- they were blue oceans.

He didn’t even say a word once he saw her. Guilt racked your insides- you were never supposed to see his true form. You betrayed him.

He straightened from his bed and stood in all of his divine glory. He flapped his wings- she felt the wind of Zephyrus billow into the room, and Eros was in flight. Before he could escape, she seized his ankle, and her feet left the ground.

Gale whipped her gown as Zephyrus’ wrath became known. Night smothered everything; however, she had no eyes for the sky. You tried to think of something to say, but there’s nothing. You can’t just apologize after you forsake the one person who actually liked you, enough to love you, and didn’t treat you like some priceless statue.

Her grip grew tired. Zephyrus was more determined than her. She slipped back and landed in an inelegant heap of tangled limbs, spent. She, panting, ignoring the raucous pangs that screamed from her, glanced up and saw him perched on the branches of a cypress tree.

He spoke, a voice so familiar it hurt, “Naive Psyche. When I heard you were to be married the most vile of men by my own mother, I disobeyed Aphrodite’s wishes and came down to you. I became your lover. However, you still decided to not heed my warning about your sisters, and you thought I was a savage beast. They convinced you to slice my head, the head of your husband! I will punish them in due time, but for now, my punishment for you will be my departure.”

Departure. It echoed in your head. She began to screech, but he already spread his wings and soared through the pitch expanse of Night. She continued to yell, cheeks chilly with wetness, but he had disappeared over the horizon.

Her throat ached. Battered and bloody, she wobbled to her feet and began a journey. One step at a time, with numb toes that couldn’t feel the tingle of grass, she stumbled to a stream.

Without hesitation, she jumped in.

“Zounds.” Jake breathed. “Uh… Dirk?”

He blinked and he arrived back to reality. His entire vision showed only his brofriend’s face. Jet-black hair tumbled over his forehead. Pale, pale skin with a small, round, freckled nose where his thick glasses sat. His cheek were pink and his mouth was slightly parted open.

He shook his whole body and allowed his gaze to explore Jake’s shoulders. One of his hands had pinned his brolove to the damask surface of a rock spire, and the other travelled behind Jake’s back lower and lower… he stopped it.

He froze. This a predicament he never wanted to find himself in.

Carefully, like his mere touch could turn him to dust, Dirk circumcised himself from him and edged several yards away.

Jake whipped his hands on his jorts. He pushed his glasses up.

Gods, he didn’t even look at him. “Well… are you okay, Dirk? You kinda- grabbed me all of the sudden.”

At least I can sorta blame it on something. He winced. That totally sounds like something a guilty person would think.

“I-I had one of those visions of the past. Back when I was Psyche.” No painless way to say that. 

“Oh.” He nodded, his eyes wide in understanding. Maybe even pity? “If you don’t mind my asking, who was the, uh, lucky fellow in your dream?”

That’s not how it works. Dirk opted for silence on the subject. His finger pulsed as it pumped blood out of a phantom wound.

Jake cranked his shoulders back and shoved his chest out. “Welp. I think I’ll go back to Jane and the others. It might be best to call it a day. Uh, goodbye, Dirk.”

He swiveled around and shambled past the two guard rocks. Dirk wrenched his gaze away with a kick at grass below him. His shoekind came into contact with a rose-red pebble from the structures around him. He picked it up and slogged back to the pool of water, turning it over in his hand, shades gleaming with indifference.

He propelled his arm back so hard it cracked. He launched the rock across the water and watched it skip once, twice, then plop into the water.

He sat next to the bank, his feet dripping into the puddle. For a moment, temptation whined at him to yank off his shades and glare into his reflection, right into his eyes, but he impaled that thought before it could snag a hoverboard and fly with it. He is not rehashing that colossal fuck-up that happened with him and Jake.

He can’t escape this. He won’t escape this. He has to come to terms with this. Think it through. Don’t prick yourself on your shards, just move. Move fast. Move faster. Get it done.

Something tapped his hair. What.

“Hey, no one touches the hair-”

Two hands snatched him, tugging him away with incredible strength. He grunted- before he could formulate a method of attack-

His chin was wrestled upwards and lips were on his.

He was so startled he almost pulled away. Yet, he recognized the way these lips fit over his, that rush of freedom, satisfaction, and heat. He was Psyche again, sneaking kisses on the slumbering figure of Eros, anxiety squashed and silent as the weight of flesh pressed gently over her trembling lips.

When the kiss ended, he expected blue oceans to lash his gaze, a sheen of betrayal that glistened like broken glass-

No. Those are green eyes, the color of life.

Jake grinned from above him and nudged his glasses back up again.

“Gazooks.” He was breathless. He giggled. “Sorry, I just saw my best friend sitting here so miserable and I had to take action.”

Dirk leaned his head back and let it bonk his brolove’s stomach. “You are a dork.”

“Strangely, I get that a lot.”

A hand patted his cheek. “Well, I think I will depart now, but um, see you soon, Strider!”

Jake English disappeared from his line of sight. He flinched and craned his head back to see him hightail into down triple chin hill. He watched him for a while; then, he allowed himself to collapse on the ground.

Dark clouds rolled. A smell of ozone curled in his nose. Brief fireworks of purple and neon blue cracked across the sky. He took some time for the electricity to halt overpowering his senses to process the situation.

Dirk decided he couldn’t be more confused on what the jegus happened. 

But maybe, for once, that's okay.


End file.
